Harry once again found himself in front of Dumbledore, with the
Pensieve placed in front of them on the headmaster's desk. He
wondered what the old man was going to pull this time. He had also
heard about the incident with his mentor.
"Sir, how is Professor Slughorn?" asked Harry quietly.
"Very lucky," said Dumbledore grimly. "The poison in his drink was
not very potent, but fast reacting. If he hadn't reacted so quickly to
save himself, he may not be alive today."
Harry wondered why anyone would want to poison Slughorn.
Voldemort deeply respected the man, but maybe the Dark Lord had
decided to get rid of the only person who had the faintest clue about
his Horcruxes? Hmm ... he would have to think about this.
Dumbledore looked faintly troubled. He knew who that bottle of
mead was meant for, but the fact that young Draco Malfoy did not do
his homework and gave something that tasty to Slughorn, not
expecting him to keep it for himself, alarmed Albus. The boy had
nearly caused Slughorn's death and Albus would have to keep an
eye out so that there were no more 'accidents'.
As they continued their lesson, Harry balled his hand into a fist.
Really, was it so hard to use a bloody contraceptive charm or a
potion? He and Daphne did it all the time! Forget them, half the
students in the fifth, sixth and seventh years were so used to the
charm that they could cast it in their sleep. The contraceptive potion
also was not something which was difficult to brew and was available
everywhere. Madam Pomfrey ensured that all the girls at Hogwarts
were safe from getting pregnant. Unexpected pregnancy was just
something that was unheard of in the magical world and yet, Merope
was able to whip up a love potion – which was quite tricky to make,
mind you – and yet could not whip up a contraceptive potion which
any competent second-year student could do? But then again, it
might have been deliberate. Getting pregnant might have been
Merope's intention all along.
Then there was Tom Riddle Senior. Harry knew the man was not to
blame for his wife's pregnancy because he was tricked into the
marriage in the first place. However, there was also the fact that
Merope was pregnant. Harry shook his head in disgust. Children
were sacred in the magical world. There were no cases of
abandonment and that was the reason there were no orphanages
either. If the parents died, there was always some magical relative
who would take their child into their home. If Riddle Senior had just
checked up on his son and done his duty, Tom Riddle Junior might
not have resorted to being the insane Dark Lord that he was! Sadly,
it wasn't really the man's fault; he was tricked by Merope. He was a
victim.
His opinion of them, however, only dwindled as he watched the
memories.
"A locket which was worth a million Galleons was sold for ten
Galleons ?" asked Harry incredulously.
"Caractacus Burke was not famed for his generosity," said
Dumbledore casually. "So we know that, near the end of her
pregnancy, Merope was alone in London and in desperate need of
gold, desperate enough to sell her one and only valuable
possession, the locket that was one of Marvolo's treasured family
heirlooms ... she also stopped using magic, if I had to guess, after
her husband abandoned her. It is also possible that her unrequited
love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can
happen. In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to
raise her wand even to save her own life."
Harry shook his head in disgust. "She wouldn't even stay alive for
her own son?"
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Could you possibly be feeling
sorry for Lord Voldemort?"
"Of course I'm feeling sorry for the young Tom Riddle," said Harry,
sounding annoyed, though his face remained perfectly
expressionless. Sometime Dumbledore wondered how he did that; it
reminded him again of his old friend, Gellert Grindelwald, who was a
natural Occlumens himself.
"It was Marvolo Gaunt's fault for the way he mistreated his daughter.
It was Merope's fault for dosing Riddle Senior with a love potion,"
said Harry angrily. "It was her fault that she was stupid enough to not
use a contraceptive potion to prevent herself from getting pregnant.
She could have slipped a male contraceptive potion in her husband's
drink and he would have been none the wiser. It was ridiculous of
her to have stopped feeding him the love potion. It was immoral of
Riddle Senior to have left his unborn son without any help. It was
Merope's fault for getting swindled out of Salazar's locket, denying
Tom his inheritance. It was again Merope and Riddle's fault that she
died in the orphanage, leaving Tom with the tender care of those
filthy Muggles. None of this was Tom's fault at all! He was just an
innocent child, a newborn infant ! He suffered for years because of
his parents' mistakes, so I will say that yes, I feel bad for one Tom
Marvolo Riddle!"
Dumbledore was speechless. This was not something he had
expected from Harry at all. The boy was supposed to see Voldemort
as pure evil, but how could he do that if he was feeling sorry for
Voldemort ?
"I see," said Dumbledore slowly. "If you'll care to watch the next
memory, Harry, we'll see more of what I've collected."
As they came out of the Pensieve half an hour later, Harry didn't
react at all. He had seen this memory before after all, but he had not
seen the part where Dumbledore had spoken to Mrs Cole. He had to
wonder how many other magical children were suffering like this in
Muggle orphanages without help. Tom and Dylan couldn't be the only
ones, could they?
"Harry?" asked Dumbledore, frowning at the still boy.
"You suspected him for every small infraction that took place at
Hogwarts the minute he entered the school, didn't you?" asked Harry
casually. "You believed the words of a Muggle and saw him as evil
and branded him so. No wonder he turned out like that if he was
forced to go back to that hellhole every summer."
Dumbledore's frown deepened. "What was wrong with Mrs Cole's
assessment of Tom?" he asked shrewdly, though he thought he
knew the answer. "Was it because she was a Muggle?"
"Of course," Harry answered, his eye twitching in annoyance. "Her
opinion of Tom was clouded by the fact that he was unnatural, a
freak ," spat Harry. "She would never have protected Tom from the
older bullies because she believed something was wrong with him.
Didn't you hear? 'We thought she was from a circus.' Did you think
her opinion would have stayed with her? How many would have
harassed Tom because of her comments? It's the same all over
again! 'Lestrange is such a strange name, isn't it? The boy is weird';
'My sister Lily was a whore and she got knocked up and had to
marry this drunken layabout who died in a car crash, with their
bastard of a child ruining our perfectly good home!' All of them are
the same! You should never have sent him back to that place again!"
"Not all children are abused, Harry," said Dumbledore, his eyes
turning slightly cold. "Just because you and Dylan –"
"And how would you know that Tom wasn't abused?" hissed Harry
angrily. "It's not like Mrs Cole would have admitted that she tried to
get an exorcism done on the boy! No one ever reveals such
information until it is forced out of us!"
"Exorcism?" asked Dumbledore sharply.
"It's a Muggle procedure," Harry said bitterly, "to take care of
'demons' and 'ghosts' that have possessed Muggles. Do you have
any idea how scary it is to undergo something like that as a child? I
was merely five years old when the Dursleys subjected that to me!
Dylan was six years old when they did it to him! It was done to Tom
too!"
"And how do you know that?" asked Dumbledore. "Harry, I see the
problem. You are getting confused. This is Voldemort we are talking
about. You are trying to validate your claims that Voldemort was not
at fault! Didn't you hear of the boy's atrocities? The incident in the
cave where he tortured two children? The incident when he killed
that rabbit? When he stole from his enemies? Yes, I kept a keen eye
on him when he came to Hogwarts, but it was not unfounded
because he opened the Chamber of Secrets and let loose the
Basilisk that petrified several students, finally killing one Ravenclaw
girl. Yes, I don't deny that Voldemort suffered, but you are seeing
everything from your point of view! That is not how he was!"
Actually, I was seeing everything from his point of view. I have the
unique advantage of having all his memories.
Harry took a deep breath as he mentally kicked himself. Such a
subject really rattled him because it came very close to home. He
could never get over the abuse he had suffered at the hands of the
Dursleys; it was a scar that would never fade and he knew that
Dylan felt the same. The horrors Dylan had endured at the
orphanage for eleven years had left him a shell, nothing more. It was
only because of the constant attention which Harry, Daphne, Sirius
and Amelia showered on him that helped Dylan get back up and
boost his self-confidence.
Either way, he had revealed more than he had intended to Albus
Dumbledore. It was time to do some damage control, even if it meant
apologising. His pride was just not worth the repercussions of
Dumbledore not revealing any more secrets – or worse, suspecting
him of having access to Voldemort's memories.
"I'm sorry, Professor," said Harry quietly. "You're right. This is
Voldemort we are talking about. But it would have been tactful of you
to have avoided showing me that memory considering my own
traumatised past. I have not forgotten my childhood with the
Dursleys nor have I forgotten what happened to my brother."
"I'm glad you realise that, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "I
think we shall stop here for tonight."
"Good night, sir," said Harry as he got up from the chair and made
his way out of the room.
Fawkes trilled softly behind him. Dumbledore sighed and closed his
eyes in despair. Was that one decision of leaving Harry with Petunia
the cause of so much trouble?
"How I wish I could fix that mistake, Fawkes. How I dearly wish I
could."
The phoenix trilled mournfully for his companion.
Light snow was falling from the evening sky in London. Several
witches and wizards were walking around Diagon Alley, obviously
wanting to do a bit of shopping for Yule before the alley would be
packed with people in a few days. It was about six in the evening,
with activated lighting charms, bathing the alley and the various
shops in bright, colourful light. The festive mood was in the air and
people were starting to wonder why there hadn't been any more
attacks from the Death Eaters in quite some time now.
The masked men and woman quietly applied their Disillusionment
Charms from where they were standing at the mouth of Knockturn
Alley. They wouldn't stay invisible for long, though. What was the
point in attacking the alley if people didn't know that the Death
Eaters were the ones who were responsible? They also had a target
to kidnap – Florean Fortescue. His grandson, Lord Fortescue, was
stirring trouble in the Wizengamot for the Dark Lord, so this should
send out a message to him and the rest. According to what
Rabastan had heard, Sirius Black was quite frustrated that the
Wizengamot wasn't willing to agree on anything and vote on the bills
which would help the Ministry win the war. But even without the
Wizengamot's support, Minister Black was doing everything possible
to make things more difficult for the Dark Lord; the black market was
a perfect example. Getting illegal supplies had become infinitely
more difficult nowadays.
"Remember our orders," said Rabastan to the dozen Death Eaters
he had under his command. "Cause mayhem, but don't kill people
outright; we don't want a mass rebellion. If people fight back, feel
free to kill them. In fact, we have received a tip that there are two
Order members who are on patrol in the alley today. Eliminate them.
Also, destroy Fortescue's shop when you kidnap him. Is everyone
ready?"
When they nodded, the group headed out and stood near the ice
cream shop. With an identical snap , their Disillusionment Charms
were deactivated and the people around them stood rigidly, staring
at them in shock until they realised what was happening.
There was a sound like an explosion going off as the Death Eaters
started their raid. Jets of light flew from their wands as more and
more buildings were damaged. A group of Death Eaters moved
towards Fortescue's ice cream shop as they blasted the entrance
open, injuring several people in the process. Rabastan grinned
maniacally behind his mask as he saw the two Order members
rushing towards the disturbance. One of them was that stupid
Muggle-loving blood traitor – he was of no consequence because he
was not very skilled in combat, but the other one would be a worthy
challenge.
Snape's information was accurate.
In the scuffle, Rabastan's mask dropped to the ground, destroyed,
displaying his face to everyone. He didn't stop though. The grey eyes
glinted in delight as he saw the look of shock and sheer terror etched
on the two faces as they recognised him. The jets of green light
impacted the bodies as they fell to the ground, dead.
Three of the new recruits were killed by the Aurors during the fight,
but it was worth it. Two members of the Order of the Phoenix had
been killed, the wizarding public was more terrified than before, and
a message had been sent to Sirius Black and the Wizengamot.
Rabastan Lestrange was happy. Now, he would have to patiently
wait for a week. The Dark Lord had a plan ... a plan that would bring
Dylan back home. Finally, Rabastan would be able to meet his son
that he had been pining for so long.
Of course, the Dark Lord also wanted Harry Potter, but Rabastan
was more interested in Dylan. Too bad he could not take part in the
kidnapping.
DEATH EATERS ATTACK DIAGON ALLEY!
Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Shop destroyed
Florean kidnapped by Death Eaters
AURORS KILL THREE MORE DEATH EATERS DURING THE
ATTACK!
Fifty people reported to have suffered serious injuries – have been
transferred to St Mungo's Hospital for treatment
RABASTAN LESTRANGE STRIKES AGAIN!
MINISTRY EMPLOYEES ARTHUR WEASLEY AND EMMELINE
VANCE MURDERED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT!
"Plans to install emergency warning system at the Ministry and other
key areas have been approved by the Wizengamot; will be up and
running within a week," says Amelia Black, Head of the D.M.L.E.
"My condolences to all the affected families," said Minister of Magic
Sirius Black. "We are doing everything in our power to end the war
as soon as possible."
DIAGON ALLEY ON LOCKDOWN FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS!
There was deathly silence in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. All of them
were intently reading the newspaper – the Weasleys had already left
the school late last night when Dumbledore had informed them of the
news. There were many eyes which were looking at the brown
haired boy at the Ravenclaw table who was reading the newspaper
with a blank look on his face. The boy's grey eyes kept staring at the
picture of Rabastan Lestrange who seemed to be firing curses
everywhere, a maniacal grin on his face. Dylan could feel the eyes
boring into him from every corner of the Great Hall. Some were
weary, but most looked hateful. The hate which was present at the
beginning of his arrival at Hogwarts was back; and this time, Dylan
didn't blame them. His father had killed two people and injured
several others – some of whom had relatives at Hogwarts. He didn't
know how he would look at the Weasleys in the face again.
Dylan closed his eyes as he heard a few angry whispers which
mentioned his name. Closing the paper, he got up, noting that
everyone was now staring at him as though he would start killing
them in an instant, and walked out of the Great Hall without a
backward glance.
Astoria was about to stand up and go after him but Daphne put a
hand on her shoulder, shaking her head. When Astoria turned
around, she noticed that Harry had walked out of the Hall too.
Nodding to her sister, Astoria quietly sat down.
Both the Greengrass sisters were incensed. How was Dylan
responsible for the actions of the father he had never met?
Dylan Lestrange was sitting near the lake at his favourite spot with
his knees pressed to his chest. This was a place he had found in his
first year after having to brave the school's hatred of him for being
the son of the hated Death Eater Rabastan Lestrange. He had
always known that his father was a killer and had mercilessly
tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity with the help of his
Uncle Rodolphus and Aunt Bellatrix, but seeing it like this was like a
slap in the face.
He couldn't deny it anymore. His father was a cold-blooded
murderer; he had raped an innocent sixteen-year-old Muggle-born
girl and Dylan had been the result. Even his mother had named him
Lestrange only to spite her attacker. Why? Couldn't she have given
him some other name, anything which didn't bring him so much
misery? What else did he get? Oh yes, he got a big, fat bank
account with mountains of gold, but what was the point? It's not like
he cared about that anyway. He'd grown up in poverty all his life but
a normal life would have been wonderful as compared to all that
money. Tears stung his eyes as he wondered if his father would kill
him someday too. Dylan did want to meet his father; he hadn't
admitted this to anyone, not even Harry, but he wanted to meet
Rabastan and find out once, just once, if the man would accept him
as his son.
But now, all those feeling seemed to have become numb. He
couldn't even picture Fred and George Weasley's faces anymore.
The glares being directed his way did not help matters at all; why
didn't anyone realise that he was a victim too? Tears leaked from his
grief-stricken grey eyes and down his pale cheeks. He felt someone
sit next to him and suddenly, he was crying unashamedly on his
brother's chest as Harry hugged him tightly. Dylan hadn't cried in a
long time now, but today was a day he had finally lost control. Harry
remained silent as he gently rocked Dylan back and forth as he
rubbed the boy's back soothingly, trying to calm him down.
After a few minutes, Dylan calmed down but hiccupped. Harry
conjured a glass and filled it with water. He gently placed it at Dylan's
mouth like his brother had done for him several months ago and
made him drink. Several gulps of water later, Dylan wrapped his
arms around Harry and he rested his head on his brother's shoulder,
staring at the frozen lake.
"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Harry softly.
Dylan tightened his grip around his brother. "I – I don't know where to
start," he whispered. "I had always known the crimes he had
committed were numerous, but it was all in the past. But this time it
is so real . I can't ignore it. The fact that Fred and George lost their
father because my father is – is ... I don't know what to say."
"Even after everyone told me that he was a mass murderer, even
after I found out what he did to the Longbottoms, I had always
wanted to meet him," said Dylan quietly. "Even after I realised what
he did to my mother, I still wanted to meet him. I wanted to know if
he would ever accept me as his son, or if I was just a bastard child
born because he got carried away. Even if he would never love me, I
had always hoped that he would at the very least acknowledge me.
But now, I don't want to be known as his son. I'm sick and tired of it
all, Harry. I'm sick and tired of people always calling me a bastard
child, always looking at me with terrified expressions on their faces
as though I'm a ward stone with a time-delayed exploding curse on
it, and I am tired of them blaming me for my father's mistakes."
Harry smiled sadly as he hugged his brother closer, kissing the top of
Dylan's head affectionately.
"Sometimes I wish I had never been born," said Dylan so quietly that
Harry almost missed it.
Harry chuckled humourlessly. "We don't have that choice, Dylan. We
don't choose the circumstance of our birth. My parents were only
twenty-six years old when they died and I was the reason they were
murdered. Voldemort might have still gone after them because of
them being in the Order of the Phoenix, but the main reason they
died was because of a prophecy hanging over my head saying that I
would be the one to finally defeat Voldemort. If I had not been born
... well, I have entertained those thoughts for a long time, but they
make no difference."
Harry lifted Dylan's chin so that they were looking at each other. "I
don't know about anyone else, but I'm glad that you came into my
life," he said quietly. "With your arrival, I found a boy whom I love as
my brother, someone who I know I can trust with my life. You and
Daphne are the reason I fight this war; both of you are the most
important people in my life."
"My life changed in ways you can never imagine once I met you and
Daphne. You may think that nothing would have changed if you had
not been born, but I say different. I would not be the person I am
today if you had not existed. You are an inspiration to me, not to
mention a mirror to how I could have been. Even after all that you
have faced, you still remain pure at heart like you were at the age of
eleven when you had a look of shock on your face when I wished
you happy birthday. I don't know if your father will ever accept you or
love you as a son, Dylan, but know that I will always consider you my
little brother and I would love you to the end of time."
Dylan threw his arms around Harry's neck as he hugged him tightly,
more tears flowing down his cheeks as he heard Harry's heartfelt
speech. It was very, very rare for Harry to speak out like this, but
Dylan cherished them whenever he heard it.
"Thank you, Harry," said Dylan softly. "I will always consider you my
brother too. You're right. I don't need my father's acceptance. As long
as I have you, everything will be fine in my life. I love you too."
Harry simply smiled as they sat there in silence, emotions running
high in both of them.
The next few days were quite sombre at Hogwarts, so it was a relief
when the Hogwarts Express took them to London. Not wanting to
make him deal with the students any more than he had to, Harry had
Portkeyed him and Dylan back to Potter Castle. Many parents too
did not want their children travelling via the train so they were waiting
outside the gates of Hogwarts to Apparate them back home. There
was no telling what the Death Eaters might do to seize power.
"Home sweet home," muttered Dylan as he saw the familiar entrance
hall at Potter Castle.
"It is so good to be back," Harry smiled as they walked up the stairs
to their rooms. A relaxing shower later, Harry walked out of his room
and entered the room next to his and saw Dylan already practising
the Transfiguration exercises required for his Animagus
transformation.
"How's it going?" asked Harry, taking a seat on the armchair in the
large room.
"I managed to do the paws," said Dylan excitedly. "Both my hands
and feet are paws with brown fur, and I have a distinct feeling that I
am a canine of some kind."
"Canine? Oh, Daphne is going to be so pissed."
Dylan rolled his eyes. Daphne thought she had a pretty good idea
what her Animagus form was going to be. It wasn't that difficult to
figure out when she saw the striped orange and black coat. Her
Patronus also gave her a distinct advantage in finding out what her
form might be.
"I still don't know what kind of canine, though," said Dylan as he tried
to transfigure more of his legs. "Maybe a dog, like Uncle Sirius?"
"You'll know once you fully transform," said Harry. "Knowing that you
are a canine would most definitely help speed up the process. You
are actually doing better than I expected. I think you would be done
by April or May, so keep trying and don't give up. Now, let's work on
the upper body transfiguration. This is more complex as the organs
here are what keep you alive. The body of a human and that of a
canine ..."
It took the rest of the day in training Dylan for the Animagus
transformation. They had a quick dinner and retreated to their
bedrooms for the night. After a conversation with their respective
girlfriends, they went to bed.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
"Severus, have you confirmed that they are indeed staying at their
castle tonight?" asked Voldemort, his red eyes narrowing at the
Potions Master. "Only the two of them?"
"Yes, my Lord," said Severus blandly. "I was not able to verify if there
were others in the castle, but that dunderhead thief Fletcher let slip
that the two of them are staying there for the night but moving to
Black Manor tomorrow."
"Good, very good," said Voldemort, smirking victoriously. "You are
dismissed."
"What am I to tell Dumbledore, my Lord?" asked Snape after
hesitating for a moment.
Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow. "You can't tell him
something you don't know, Severus. Now leave!"
"Yes, my Lord, I apologise," said Snape as he backtracked, walking
out of the room. He had a funny feeling that Harry Potter and Dylan
Lestrange would soon have company.
Voldemort moved to his private office in Riddle Manor and removed
a small stone basin which seemed to be shimmering, emitting a
silvery light. With a wave of his hand, he sliced a thin line on his
palm, letting the drops of blood fall into the basin. His smirk widened
as he saw the potion change colour.
Ever since Harry had escaped his clutches in the graveyard not far
from his manor, he knew that he could exploit the blood connection
he and the boy shared to kidnap Potter. After all, the same blood
which flowed in Potter's veins was what sustained him as well.
However, there was a small problem.
Intent was very powerful in magical rituals, and he realised that the
way in which he had forcefully taken Harry's blood during his
resurrection ritual would not give him access to the family magic. All
magical families, new or old, tended to guard their blood using
rituals; but these rituals were never foolproof. Blood magic was one
of the biggest weapons a wizard could have over another. So many
magical royal and noble families in the past had ended because their
enemies used their blood against them.
The Potter family had been nearly been driven to extinction the same
way when one of the sons used his blood to launch surprise attacks
against his own family. Voldemort had prepared for this mission
extensively, studying every detail he had managed to recover on the
Potter Massacre. Studying Harry's blood made him realise that the
Potter family had taken drastic measures to ensure their blood was
never used against them again. That was the reason, Voldemort
mused, why Dumbledore had never managed to find Harry all those
years ago when the boy had disappeared.
Smart, the Potters may have been, but their magic was centuries
old; in other words, outdated, and Harry Potter was not experienced,
knowledgeable or old enough to strengthen the protections in his
blood – the proof was the boy's blood running in the Dark Lord's
veins.
Voldemort flicked his wand, disabling various protective
enchantments as he carefully placed a weird looking silver
instrument on his desk. This was one of his greatest inventions, and
if he was not the Dark Lord, Voldemort was sure that the title of
Grand Sorcerer would have been bestowed upon him for his work on
blood magic. This instrument, a ward inhibitor, would allow him to
send his Death Eaters into Potter Castle without triggering the
castle's defences. The Dark Lord couldn't even describe the effort he
had put into the invention, but it was worth it. Having the boy of the
prophecy on his side would be invaluable to Voldemort. He poured
the modified potion containing Harry's blood into the silver
instrument. It immediately began puffing, but it would need to be very
close to the wards for it to work properly. Potter Castle's wards might
be impressive, but Lord Voldemort was better.
It was a shame that his best Death Eaters were abroad, recruiting
more people for his cause. No matter, the infamous werewolf had not
let him down yet.
"The curse-breaker will help you gain entry, Greyback," said
Voldemort coldly as he entered his throne room where the werewolf
and the curse-breaker were kneeling before him. "Malcolm is very
talented, but he will be drained once he gets you inside so he will be
Apparating back here. You are to get into the castle and capture both
boys. Do not kill them, understood? I want them whole and relatively
unharmed. The team you are taking may be new recruits and
werewolves, but I expect you to fulfil the mission to the letter. If you
succeed in kidnapping Harry Potter and Dylan Lestrange, you will be
rewarded beyond your wildest dreams."
"Yes, my Lord," said Greyback, but he cursed his luck in not being
able to feast on the two handsome young boys. He wondered if he
could do so after the Dark Lord killed them. As long as he had tasty
flesh, he didn't care.
In the entrance hall of Riddle Manor, Greyback grinned manically at
the group of Death Eaters and werewolves.
"We'll be raiding Potter Castle tonight," said Greyback, licking his
lips. "To victory!"
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
On top of a large hill in the middle of Sherwood Forest,
Nottinghamshire, twenty-odd kilometres from the Muggle city of
Nottingham stood an expansive and regal looking castle amidst
hundreds of acres of land covered in snow. It was three-thirty in the
morning and everything was quiet. The lake was frozen but the
magical moat around the castle churned, displaying that at least one
of the extensive wards around the castle was active. Statues of
various magical creatures that stood at various places in the grounds
and the suits of armour inside the castle were all at rest. The
massive blue flag bearing the Potter crest which was placed on top
of the highest tower fluttered against the wind. The ancient castle
really looked breathtaking in its slow covered form.
The paintings inside were snoozing, but suddenly went rigid as
though they had been frozen. The house-elves all around the castle
dropped like statues and began sleeping soundly. The corridors and
rooms were eerily quiet. There was no movement – living or dead.
Alfred Potter was currently not staying at home, having chosen to
attend the annual ghosts' winter conference.
"Beautiful place, isn't it?" whispered Malcolm as he activated the
enchantments which made the house-elves and portraits fall asleep.
The silver instrument which he held in his hand that contained Harry
Potter's blood puffed as he breached a tiny opening in the wards. He
waited for a moment, ensuring that it didn't trigger the second layer
defences until he expanded the opening, neutralizing several
protections placed by the Potter family. After he punctured the anti-
Apparation ward which would allow for the Death Eaters to slip
through undetected, he placed the instrument on the ground with
charms around it so that it interfered with Harry Potter's connection
with the wards surrounding the ancient structure.
"You can enter the castle," said Malcolm, holding back a sneer at the
werewolf. "The trail I have cleared for you should lead you to the
Apparition point. Once you're there, you'll have only one shot to
Apparate through the stone fortress and immediately again into the
castle, so make it count! I don't need to tell you what happens should
you fail."
Greyback bared his yellow, pointed teeth at the curse-breaker, but
nodded to his comrades. A group of sixteen wizards and werewolves
made their way to the Apparition point and turned on the spot to slip
through the fortress, and again to enter the castle. With a crack ,
they found themselves in a cellar.
"Where are we?" breathed one of the Death Eaters.
"Probably in the dungeons," answered Greyback gruffly. "Spread out
in teams of four. Look everywhere for the boys, but remember, don't
harm them."
Just as they crossed the threshold, Harry's emerald green eyes
snapped open in confusion.